Snowfall (7 page)

Martin chuckled. “Which, of course, made you want to see what was inside even more, I suppose?”

Looking sheepish, Katrina nodded. “I wasn't
verra
nice to her at first.”

“Maybe you'll be nicer tomorrow.” Reaching out, he gently set a finger under her chin and lifted her head. “Try, please. She is doing us all a favor by being here.”

“I'll try,” she promised around a yawn. “Daddy, we should go to sleep now.”

Picking up the candle, he nodded. “Want to use this to walk upstairs?”

“
Nee
. I'll be all right.
Gut
naught
, Daddy.”

Leaning close, he pressed his lips to her brow. “
Gut naught
to you, too, Katrina. Sweet dreams.”

She smiled at him but didn't wish him the same.

Which made him begin to realize that maybe his inability to sleep wasn't that much of a secret after all.

I like pink frosting the best.

Meg, Age 4

Day 4 of Christmas Break

“You came back!” Little Meg exclaimed the moment Ruth entered the Rhodeses' kitchen.

“I did, indeed.” Taking a peak over her shoulder to see if Martin was in the room, Ruth said, “You sound mighty surprised. Were you afraid I wouldn't?”

Meg bit her bottom lip. “Gregory said maybe we were too naughty for you to want to see us again.”

“I don't know why he would have said such a thing. You weren't naughty at all. I liked being with you.” And that was true! They were rambunctious and noisy and busy and restless. But they were also bright and rather happy
kinner
.

And since she'd spent much of the night before trying to forget just how unhappy she'd been for most of her childhood, Ruth was willing to count their happiness as a true blessing.

Brigit joined them. “You know why Gregory said what he did?”

“
Nee
, I am afraid I do not.”

“It's 'cause we all said we didn't want to do anything with you.”

Little Brigit, with her light brown hair in two lopsided lumps under her
kapp
, looked so earnest that Ruth almost hugged her.

As it was, it was a bit of a struggle to act and sound as disaffected as she felt she needed to be. “That you did. But I also told you that I wanted you to be honest. There's nothing wrong with being honest.”

“But I wasna honest,” Karin said as she ran to her side. “I lied! I do like you.”

Ruth was wondering how to best smooth over the outburst when their father entered the room.

And then, just as if someone had lit a fire in the room, Ruth felt energized. Immediately, her gaze turned to Martin.

And what a sight he was, too. Thick wool pants, a white T-shirt under a blue shirt, which he'd topped with a knobby wool sweater.

He looked rugged and handsome and ready to spend another day out in the sunshine and cold. And though she knew better than to ever entertain any thoughts of him at all, Ruth kept feeling her gaze wander his way.

Luckily, she was not having the same effect on him. He looked like he was once again knee-deep in refereeing his
kinners
' squabbles.

Martin sighed. “Oh, Karin. You know better than to tell tales.”

“Uh-huh. Which is why I'm being honest now. 'Cause I told you about when I was lying. Right, Ruth?”

Ruth's head was spinning; she was trying so hard to keep up. “I suppose,” she answered, though actually, she wasn't exactly sure what Karin was referring to.

“Wait a minute,” their father interrupted. “Why were you lying in the first place?”

“Because everyone else did.”

“I wasna lying,” Thomas said as he appeared from the hearth room. “I didn't want to do anything with Ruth.”

“Thomas, enough of that kind of talk.”

“Daed, I'm not doing anything wrong right this minute. I'm telling the truth, which keeps turning from a good to a bad thing.”

“Oh, brother,” Martin said.

The chuckle she heard behind her made her feel surprisingly happy. Glancing at Martin again, the man was shaking his head in mock frustration. “Ruth, is it any wonder I'm exhausted at the end of every day?”

Before she remembered that she was there to cook and clean and get paid, Ruth met his eyes. “I'm starting to wonder how you ever manage to get out of bed in the morning!”

His green eyes warmed, too. And for a brief moment, Ruth felt a connection, the likes of which she'd never experienced before. Right that moment, it was the two of them against this rambunctious group of
kinner
.

And the idea that a strong man like him would even need her help? Well, it made her giggle. Hastily, she slapped her hand over her mouth. “I'm sorry. Well, I do believe since I did come back and you all do seem to want to do something with me . . . we should get started.”

The last holdout, Katrina, appeared and maneuvered her way to the kitchen table. “Does that mean you've brought your hamper again?”

“It does, indeed.” Ruth picked it up and set it on the table with a bit of a grunt. “But it's still early, and it looks to me like we need to have a hearty breakfast first.” Looking at Martin, she said, “Have you eaten?”

He looked taken aback. “Me?”

His reaction made her smile. “
Jah
, Martin. You. Have you eaten?”

Looking down at his feet, he muttered, “Well, not exactly.”

Katrina tilted her head. “Are you lying now, Daed?”

“Not at all. It's just that I don't have much time. . . .”

“I'm sure you have time for eggs and toast and maybe some ham?”

“I don't know if we have any ham. . . .”

“I brought my own.”

“You brought your own ham?” Martin asked.

“Well, yes. You don't mind, do you?”

Staring at her like she confused him as much as the children were confusing her, Martin shook his head slowly.

“I bought the ham the other day. It was on sale, you see. But I started thinking that one ham would go to waste on a single girl like me.”

“So you brought it here to us?”

“
Jah
,” she said as she reached in and pulled out the smoked ham. When the
kinner
clapped, Ruth felt herself blush. “It's better to share, I think.”

“It came out of the basket!” Meg cried. “It's a fancy basket!”

“It is fancy, but there's nothing too special about me bringing ham. I simply had it at home, and I didn't want it to go to waste,” she explained as she bustled over to the pans, lit one of the gas burners, and started slicing the meat.

“
Kinner
, I have much planned for us today. That means I need your help so I can make your father a good breakfast. Quick now, help me get out the eggs and milk and butter. Martin, would you like a fresh cup of coffee, too?”

“
Nee
. I mean, I already had some coffee. And there's no reason for you to—”

“Sit down, Martin,” she interrupted. “But don't take a peek inside that hamper. Children, keep an eye on your father now.”

Their father looked flummoxed. “I don't understand. . . .”

Playfully, she shook a finger at him. “You heard what I said. You have to be patient, just like everyone else.” Her heart started beating wildly as she realized what she'd just blurted to her new employer.

But to her amazement—and the children's—he sat. Then he accepted the cup of coffee she handed him.

As the children wandered out of the kitchen, a new tension filled the air. It was compounded by the fact that Martin kept staring at her.

Staring at her in such a way that she began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, she hadn't missed out on every opportunity to claim some adventure and happiness for herself.

Maybe, just maybe, the Lord had simply been biding His time until this year.

When she returned Martin's gaze, she felt a tingle dance along her spine. It took a minute, but she recognized what that little tingle was. It was that same feeling she'd felt when Jonas Miller smiled at her.

That feeling of hope, of giddy excitement. That feeling that everything wonderful and special was within her grasp. All she had to do was reach out for it. As her mind spun, she slowly became aware that Martin was gazing at her with more than a little amusement. And more than a little bit of confusion.

“Ruth, are you all right?”

“Of course,” she blurted. And she was. All she had to do was get her head wrapped around the idea that something special was happening. And that Martin was feeling it, too.

“Miss Ruth, I think your special ham is burning!” Thomas exclaimed when he came running back into the kitchen.

“What? Oh, no!” Quickly she turned and pushed the pan from the burner.

Gregory drew to a stop next to him and peered in the pan and wrinkled his nose. “Is it supposed to look like that?”

“Nope,” Thomas answered.

After treating the boys to a stare, Ruth examined the ham. “It's a little crisp, but it will be all right.”

As the rest of the children returned to the kitchen, Ruth cleared her throat. Turning back to their father, she added, “I think it's going to be all right, after all.”

Something new flashed in Martin's eyes.

Reminding Ruth that she'd been talking about something much more than a slice of ham—and that Martin realized it as well.

He needed to get out of the kitchen, Martin realized. For some reason, he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her, and she was aware of that.

And because she was aware of him, he'd managed to make his new babysitter uncomfortable. It was as obvious as if she'd suddenly pulled a stop sign from her basket and flashed it in front of his face.

The right thing would be to quietly excuse himself. To walk out of the kitchen and give her some space. Let the children enjoy her attentions.

But for the life of him, he couldn't do that. Not just yet. For the first time since his wife passed away, his imagination had been sparked. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to watch her with his children, see what she did to make them so happy. Try to figure out why just watching her help his children smile made
him
so happy.

He even wanted to know what else she had in that wicker basket. And if she was going to read more of her book that afternoon.

As she continued to make his breakfast—the breakfast that he hadn't asked for and didn't really want—Martin knew he needed to do something very soon. He could already tell that his children thought he was acting strangely.

Therefore, for the good of everyone, he pushed back his chair and stood up. “You know what? I should probably—”

“I brought everything to play Christmas Bingo,” she blurted as she put a plate filled with two fried eggs and a well-done slice of ham in front of him. “That's what's in my basket.”

Six sets of eyes stared at her. And he? Well, he eased back in his chair and picked up a fork. “Pardon?”

She opened the hamper and pulled out seven cardboard squares. Each square already had the letters B-I-N-G-O neatly printed at the top of the card. Below the letters was a carefully drawn grid.

Each of the children picked up a card and looked at it curiously.

Then they looked at their father for answers. But he didn't have any. He was just as much at sea as they were.

“What are we supposed to do with these?” he asked after he ate a forkful of eggs.

“You need to draw pictures, of course,” she explained as she dove right back into the hamper.

Once again, all of the children leaned slightly forward, watching as she pulled out a large sheet of paper with a variety of pictures drawn on them. And then she pulled out two containers of fine-tip markers.

“After we have breakfast, everyone is going to draw these pictures on their cards.”

“Huh?” Gregory asked.

“You're designing your own Bingo card, silly,” Ruth said, just as if it was a normal daily occurrence. Or a time-honored Amish Christmas tradition.

It wasn't, of course. As far as he knew, the Amish most definitely did not play Christmas Bingo.

“Daed?” Katrina asked. “Have you done this before?”

“Never. And what's more, I'm not sure that—”

“My friend Jean taught it to me,” Ruth interrupted. “I lived with her four years and she taught me all sorts of fun games. Christmas Bingo will be fun. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” Katrina asked.

“Positive,” Ruth replied.

Still the
kinner
were looking at Martin, trying to figure out if they should accept her game or not.

But before he could decide one way or the other, Ruth shook her head as she picked up her hamper and set it on the floor. “You all are incorrigible. And you've seriously neglected your notion of fun.”

“We . . . We've had fun before.”

“That's up for debate, since you have no idea what Christmas Bingo is.”

Thomas looked flummoxed. Almost speechless. This was such a rare event that Martin was tempted to write the date down.

Instead, he stood up again. He was too tempted to never go to work. He was as tempted as his children to be cast under Ruth's spell.

But he had to stay strong. “Breakfast was
gut
.
Danke
. But I need to go. Now.”

Karin tugged on his shirt. “But, Daed, you were going to make a Bingo card with us.”

“I wish I could, but I must go tend to the trees,” he said as he crossed the kitchen and grabbed another slice of ham off the paper towels.

Ruth picked up his plate. “But what about your breakfast? You barely touched anything.”

“I'll be fine. Good-bye for now.”

“Good-bye for now, Martin,” Ruth said.